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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24769156">you're all honey and none of the sting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCuteOtaku/pseuds/TheCuteOtaku'>TheCuteOtaku</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Daddy Kink, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, First Aid, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay Panic, Heavy Petting, M/M, Making Out, No Angst, Non-Graphic Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:29:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,737</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24769156</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCuteOtaku/pseuds/TheCuteOtaku</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ethan works at a nerd merchandise store directly across from Adam; a tattooed free-spirit with a smile that hurts.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Male Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you're all honey and none of the sting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“My quiet angel, my gentle surrender. Do you know what emptiness you've killed just by existing?" – Y.Z.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>If this was a John Hughes movie there’d be some pop-rock playing in the background about now. Maybe a classic like Don’t You (Forget About Me). Or something from this decade. The lights would dim, and everything would slow down. It would be raining. At the very least, they wouldn’t be pressed against each other in the backroom of a speciality store. Ethan never considered himself a romantic, but there’s something about Adam that makes him want to try. He doesn’t think there’s anything inherently romantic about how they got here. When he flipped the Back in 5 minutes sign on the front door, he’d intended to grab something quick to eat. He was working this shift with Nicola, but she was late back from her lunch break. Just five minutes – he was just going to run to the food court and grab something easy.</p><p>Before he could lock up, Adam waved him down from the entrance of the crystal shop. Ethan watched him as he chatted with a customer. His smile wide, gesticulating as he talked about this or that crystal and what it could do. Ethan knew more about auras and spirit animals than he ever expected to – especially considering he worked in a geek merch store. Adam wrapped up his conversation and walked over to Ethan. Could you call what he was doing walking? More like strutting, perhaps? Because nothing Adam did or said was ordinary.</p><p>“Yo, you got a minute?”</p><p>Adam slung his arm over Ethan’s shoulders and leaned his weight into him. He lay his hand flat against his chest and gave him a pat. Ethan staggered. See, Ethan is physically affectionate. He’s used to doling out hugs like it’s nothing. Thing is, most guys aren’t nearly as affectionate. Most guys give awkward half hugs coupled with manly pats on the back. He’s used to convoluted handshakes punctuated with a “how’s it, bro”. He’s had to apologise in the past for getting too close – too familiar too soon. None of that matters with Adam.</p><p>The heat from Adam’s body warms Ethan’s side even through his hoodie and t-shirt. A human inferno – that’s what he is. Ethan can smell the faint signature of cigarette smoke, sweat, soap and whatever laundry detergent Adam uses. He thinks that he probably shouldn’t find this scent so appealing, but one whiff and the stiffness in his shoulders and neck disappear. He hadn’t even realized he’d been feeling stressed.</p><p>“Yeah, sure sure. Come in.”</p><p>Ethan closes the door and puts a healthy about of space between them. He likes the casual touches Adam sends his way – in theory. He likes that Adam feels comfortable enough with him to hug him properly (no bro hug in sight). What he doesn’t like is how he feels when he does. He can’t help but think of a jar full of bees – the violent buzzing he’d expect. His body feels breakable like a glass jar – his heart the bees. Fuck, that’s cheesy. And he knows it is. He wants to be cool about this. I mean, it’s 2019. He has a crush on a dude. It’s not the end of the world. It’s not. He can be progressive here. Crushes fade and become funny stories to tell friends over tall glasses of beer. It’s so chilled.</p><p>Adam takes off his shirt.</p><p>“Why? Why are you getting naked in my store?”</p><p>Ethan hates how reedy his voice sounds – how breathless. But there’s a lot of skin on display here. One long soft plane broken only by low-riding tight black jeans and a Band-Aid at the waist. Is he being tested here? Is this the work of God or Satan? Adam bends down to pick up his discarded shirt and Ethan thinks this must be how Harry Potter felt when he first encountered a dementor. Is his soul even in his body?</p><p>“Dude, I need to change this bandage. Lend me a hand? I can’t reach.”</p><p>Adam pulls out a handful of Band-Aids from the back pocket of his jeans. Do they have to be that tight?</p><p>“Okay, okay, sure. But can we do it in the back?”</p><p>“That’s what she said,” he laughs.</p><p>Ethan is in love with a child. Wait, no, a crush. It’s just a crush!</p><p>They step into the storage room which is nothing more than a broom closet. Adam faces away from Ethan so that Ethan is facing the nape of his neck. He gets the sudden urge to kiss him there. Wonders how his hair would feel between his fingers. What kind of face he’d make if Ethan were to pull? And taste, what does Adam’s skin taste like? The thought that he might never know is a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Makes it hard to breathe. Make his hands shake as he tries to peel back the Band-Aid from its paper wrapper.</p><p>“What happened to you? How’d you cut your back?”</p><p>“Bruh, it’s a story! I was at the club last night and things got crazy.”</p><p>“Crazy like getting too drunk and falling or crazy like someone stabbed you again?”</p><p>Adam laughs. Pointedly doesn’t answer. He’s not good for Ethan’s heart. Ethan wishes he was crushing on an Accountant or maybe one of the guys from Seattle Coffee. You know, someone that doesn’t go to techno clubs with knife-wielding lunatics. Someone that gets stitches at a hospital instead of just sticking a Band-Aid over a fucking knife wound. Someone that doesn’t make his heart hurt like this.</p><p>He’s quiet for too long, he knows. He’s making this awkward. He should just laugh. That’s what he’s meant to do, but he just can’t make himself do it. He’s stuck in this moment watching himself outside of himself. He notices the peeling skin of Adam’s new tattoo. The spiderweb casting shadows by the light fixture. The pile of Naruto t-shirts they haven’t put out yet. His hand on Adam’s skin. Soft.</p><p>“Ethan?”</p><p>“Just let me. Please.”</p><p>He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He watches himself pull back the old Band-Aid – makes a face at the pink healing skin beneath. He puts the new Band-Aid over the wound and there’s something poetic going on here. He’s not good at this shit. He always picks shounen anime over shojo – has never needed to be gentle with anyone. He knows now’s the time for a joke. Maybe they’ll roughhouse a little – just boys being boys. Nicola will come back from lunch and they’ll shoot the shit until they close, and it will be like any other day. Any other day, but the bees in his chest need out.</p><p>He lays his hand in the middle of Adam’s back like a claim. Like a plea; please let me. Please share this space with me. Let me be something sweet with you.</p><p>“Ethan.”</p><p>Not a question.</p><p>“Please.”</p><p>Adam turns and this is it, isn’t it? This isn’t going to be a funny story to tell over tall glasses of beer. This is like the first time he rode a bike. The first time he smoked a joint. The first time he took a leap of faith knowing he’d get hurt and not giving a shit. This is him learning and unlearning himself. He’s not brave. He doesn’t have to be.</p><p>Adam kisses him first.</p><p>It’s not perfect. This is not a John Hughes movie. It couldn’t be because he’s not a teenage girl. They’re not in a backyard or at prom or the middle of a football field. Simple Minds is not the soundtrack to this moment. No, it’s perfectly quiet but for the soft breaths Adam releases when Ethan starts to chart his back with the tips of his fingers.</p><p>Maybe he is brave. Just a little. Enough to drag his tongue along Adam’s bottom lip. He shudders and Ethan’s never felt so good. He’s suddenly scared that he’ll never feel this good again. That after this moment ends, nothing will live up to it. He’s got to make it count, right?</p><p>There’s nothing gentle about the way he grips Adam at the waist. He can feel himself unravelling, can’t control it, doesn’t care to. Because he wants everything, all at once. As much as Adam is willing to give him.</p><p>“Slow. Slow.” Adam hushes him. Ethan never knew he could speak so softly.</p><p>Adam cradles his face. Kisses one cheek and then the other. Looks right at him. And it’s never been like this before. No one’s ever fucking cradled him.</p><p>“You know,” Adam whispers, “I’ve been looking at you for months. And yet, I still have no fucking clue what colour your eyes are.”</p><p>Ethan laughs – a choked off sound. The tension in his shoulders disappears. Seems like his body doesn’t know how to stay stressed around Adam.</p><p>“They’re green.”</p><p>“Nah, not just green. Blue too. And some silver or, like, grey. I don’t know. I feel like you’re different every time I look at you and it scares me shitless.”</p><p>“You? Scared? You have a literal stab wound in your back.”</p><p>Adam shrugs like getting stabbed is like stubbing your toe. He moves closer to Ethan – if that’s even possible. The heat of him should feel suffocating but Ethan just wants to curl into him even more. He thinks, for a wild moment, that if he could live inside Adam – he would. It would be safe there. Always warm.</p><p>“You don’t get it. Like, everyone has this aura about them. They’re easy to figure out. But you? I can’t even figure out your eye colour!”</p><p>“You want to know me?” It sounds more intimate said out loud than it did in Ethan’s head. It feels like he’s asking <em>do you want to love me</em>.</p><p>That might be what he’s asking.</p><p>“I want to understand you.”</p><p>Fuck, he feels like crying all of a sudden. He doesn’t want to. He wants to keep touching Adam; keep the circuit of their bodies closed. But he feels them – tears wavering, indecisive about whether they should fall. Adam smiles like this is normal. Like it’s totally chilled that he’s shirtless and holding onto a dude while said dude tries not to cry. He pushes back Ethan’s bangs, gets right in his space and just seems to stay there. Like he’d be happy with just that. Like it’s enough just to hold Ethan in a storeroom. Like he doesn’t need to be with anyone else or be doing anything else. The tears do fall and Ethan isn’t even surprised when Adam licks them away. He should be grossed about by this, he knows. But Adam’s tongue is hot just like his mouth. The pink of his tongue against his perfect white teeth should be a portrait. It should be a portrait hanging in Ethan’s room. He wants to look at this smile for as long as he can.</p><p>It’s not enough. He wants more.</p><p>“What is it, baby?” Adam practically purrs. Filthy. Like a promise.</p><p>“Don’t call me baby.”</p><p>“Why not? You like it. I can tell you like it.”</p><p>It’s Satan. It’s Satan that brought Adam here. Because God wouldn’t put Ethan in a situation where he might come in his pants. God is gracious like that.</p><p>“So, what? You got a daddy kink, huh? You want me to call you daddy?”</p><p>Ethan is joking. He really is. He’s totally joking. But, see, he’s read books before where the author describes a character’s eyes as smouldering and dark when aroused and Ethan’s always called bullshit. Who’s eyes actually smoulder? I mean, really? Except, well, Adam’s eyes are like a fucking bush fire in the middle of Summer. <em>Predator</em>, whispers Ethan’s lizard brain.</p><p>We can’t do anything in here, says reason. But reason can go and fuck herself because Adam’s got his thigh wedged between the v of Ethan’s legs. And his hands are so big on the meat of his thighs. And it shouldn’t feel this good fully clothed. He’s too old for this shit. They should be in a bed. He’ll never be able to forgive himself if he comes in his pants with images of Naruto as an audience.</p><p>“Say that again,” Adam demands. Fucking demands it like they’re in some BDSM novel. Not even the good kind, but the kind someone’s mom keeps in her purse. People don’t growl in real life, but Adam doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo.</p><p>“You can’t be serious!”</p><p>“Ethan.” And there’s a please in his voice. And Ethan’s been fighting a losing battle ever since he fucking met Adam.</p><p>He knows he’s red in the face. Can’t even make eye contact anymore. Well, there’s no room for shame here. The storeroom is only big enough for two.</p><p>“Daddy.”</p><p>This is how he dies. From sheer, unfiltered embarrassment.</p><p>“Fuck.”</p><p>Adam presses him against the wall. Gives up all pretence of doing anything but trying to make Ethan come. Plunges his tongue into his mouth – fucks in and out. And this is some porn shit right here. This is not how first kisses are meant to go. Ethan’s gone from learning how to crawl to running the Two Oceans, but how can he complain when the pressure of Adam’s hand on his throat feels like an answer to a question he didn’t know he was asking.</p><p>You want to know me? I want to understand you.</p><p>The hand loosens and Ethan’s got two of Adam’s fingers in his mouth. Sucks on them like it’s second nature. Still can’t look at Adam in the eyes. Knows that if he does, it’s over – he’s a goner.</p><p>“Look at me, baby. Baby look at me.”</p><p>He looks at him.</p><p>Because he’s weak or brave or – he doesn’t know what he is anymore.</p><p>He’s expecting the lust in his eyes. He’s not expecting the softness. Not expecting the almost shy smile. Like Adam is just as surprised as he is. Like he can’t believe this is really happening. Like he’s happy.</p><p>Ethan sucks harder.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. Just like that. Get them really wet. Get them wet for me. Get them wet for da –</p><p>“Ethan, dude, where are – “</p><p>If this was a John Hughes movie, Ethan would get a happy ending (pun intended). He’d walk into the sunset with his crush-turned-lover on his arm and everything would be just peachy. He wouldn’t have to face his coworker with fingers in his mouth and – hey look – the top of his pants undone. When did that happen?</p><p>“I’m…I’m just going to close the door and…you guys can finish. Um…finish whatever – fuck – okay, bye.”</p><p>The silence that follows after Nicola closes the storeroom door is anything but comfortable. Adam, finally, removes his fingers from Ethan’s mouth, with a wet pop, and leans away from him. The tension breaks. Ethan buttons his pants. Adam puts his shirt on and pats down his hair. Ethan realizes he never got to touch it.</p><p>They open the door to find Nicola on the other side of the store wearing a pair of headphones. There is a long stretch of a moment where no one says anything before Adam coughs and seems to purposefully shrug his embarrassment away. Ethan leads him to the door, eyes to the ground because he’s not sure what his face is doing right now but he knows it’s not good. Are they meant to hug? High-five? Shake hands? Adam opens the door and flips the sign back to open for them. Ethan shoves his hands into his pockets so he doesn’t do anything stupid. He thinks that giving a high-five to a guy you just called daddy would constitute as stupid.</p><p>Adam pauses at the door – half in the store and half out. He seems to take a breath, squares his shoulders, and Ethan’s fucking bones shake. Because he’s not ready to be told this meant nothing. Doesn’t know what to do with himself.</p><p>“What time do you finish work today?” Adam seems, god, nervous?</p><p>“We should be done around ten. You?”</p><p>“Same.”</p><p>He actually shuffles his feet like a cartoon character. And is that a blush? Ethan takes what feels like his very first breath.</p><p>“Do you, maybe, want to go grab a beer afterwards? My treat.”</p><p>And, yeah, maybe Ethan is brave. Just a little. Just enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Meet my boys. Please take care of them!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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